


Sugar Sugar

by orphan_account



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, And so here I am, Enjoy u lil fukrs, Eventual Smut, Fluff, I haven't seen it around as of yet, I promise, Its gonna be so fucking fluffy, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-08-23 01:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8308177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Peter is in deep shit. He doesn't have enough money for rent, is barely eating and without anyone to support him after his aunt died, he's looking for a substitute. He may have sunk low enough to get himself back on his feet, though.Discontinued!!





	1. Ain't No Date Like A First Date

Peter had been in a steadily declining state of mental wellbeing since his aunt died, and before that the most pleased he was about anything was the fact he still had family left.  
  
Not any longer.  
  
Being Spiderman left barely any time to himself and jobs were scarce, especially as he had left college to help pay for his aunt's healthcare. He'd been through most of his education, though, and had gotten a low paying job at the Bugle. Another at a coffee shop, and one in an ice-cream bar not far from his home. Unfortunately, this took up nearly all of his time, and Spiderman took the last remnants of it. So, sleep was barely something he was actually given the privilege of.   
  
When he did get sleep it was too few and far between. Eventually he had to drop The Bugle as it was the lowest paying job, and so he worked two part-time jobs barely scraping up enough rent for his apartment. Bills came piling in, he hadn't eaten a real meal in such a long time and other than things that would've otherwise gone to waste in his workplaces, he'd probably not even be able to buy real food anyway. He had about a ten dollar bill between months and it was much, much too hard to scrape by anything else.   
  
At least he had a warm place to stay, maybe even counting the ice cream, pastries and free coffee(He was more of a tea fan but what can you do) it was a fairly okay life.  
  
Tonight, however, had been something he'd been dreading to ever hear. He'd received a letter earlier on, and it was from his landlord. They knew Peter was a little behind on payments, but it didn't seem to matter, as they were strict. He only went through his mail at the end of the day anyway, but found he should probably have gone through it earlier. The rent was going up, and he was _still_ behind on payments. Even if it was just going up and he wasn't behind he'd be fucked. It was going up by three hundred smackeroons, and he barely had enough for the rent as it was.   
  
He was tempted to call in favours, but decided against it. If he was going to live on the street, he didn't want anyone to know about it. So, to clear his mind, he turned to Spiderman.  
  
Spiderman was a relief, where he didn't have to be Peter Parker, and he could just be some crime fighting vigilante who's only job was getting justice. All that bullshit that Batman probably said at some point in his life. Running, swinging, whatever he did helped him ease up on the reigns of reality. Sort of like taking drugs but nowhere near anything as damaging. If he even tried to use drugs he'd have to use so much of them people might assume he was trying to kill himself. There wasn't a point, in his opinion.  
  
Pausing on a rooftop to catch his breath and look over the city, he noticed another man atop a roof not far along. Picking up a light jog, he made his way over to see who it was.  
  
They were in red, like him, but instead of blue the built male had black accenting the red and the mask was definitely more expressive than his, as he knew exactly who it was. He was going to turn and leave or keep going, but Deadpool turned towards him with a grin under the mask and turned to face him properly, an excited jump as he tried to sit still. "Spiderman? I know my Spidey. Turn around."   
  
The statement didn't much sound like a question, and more like an order. In all honesty, he was a little afraid of Deadpool, so he let out an exasperated sigh and turned around, turning back to face the bulky male near immediately. "Oh god it is you! I can tell that ass a mile off."   
  
Obviously he couldn't, but then again he wasn't facing away from a mile off. Either way, he decided not to comment on it. "Okay? How can you even tell a person through their rear end?"   
  
Amused, Deadpool gave a low resounding laugh. It was honestly lovely to hear, in fact it was something he wanted to hear more of. " _Rear end_? what are you, eighty? Oh man-" he took a deep breath and wiped an imaginary tear from his mask. "-You really are something else. How you been, though? Haven't seen you in ages." He seemed to drag out the word ages, and Peter brushed it off with the wave of a hand.   
  
"Busy, mostly." His answer was short, trying not to give too much out just in case. He seemed to go ham on the detail for everything in his personal life whenever he was in the suit. It was really weird, like he didn't have an off switch and the words kept going and going and going. "Oh really? Doing what? Jacking it in San Diego?"   
  
Sighing once more, he decided that without specifics, Deadpool would just fill in the blanks with his imagination. Of which happened to be wildly vivid. He couldn't really win in this situation, and although he didn't like delving into his personal Out Of Costume life, he felt he would just dip into it a little. "I haven't. I have been working. Surprisingly enough, I can't manage to keep myself stable and will soon be getting kicked out of my house. So that's an amazing turnout." Little his ass. Slumping himself down on the roof, he leaned his chin in his hands, elbows leaning on his thighs. "It hasn't been amazing."  
  
Just at that moment his stomach decided to make the noise of a dying giraffe, alerting Deadpool that he hadn't really eaten properly today, at the very least. He seemed to ease up the laid back attitude, adopting one of a concerned family member. "Webs, have you even eaten in the last twenty four hours?"   
  
"Uhh..."   
  
That was all he needed before Deadpool stood himself up and brought Spiderman to his feet, taking hold of his hand to take him to somewhere proper for real food. Peter, however, was not impressed. "I am not going with you, no way."  
  
"Look, sweetums, I'm not going to kidnap you or anything but your stomach is begging me - and probably you - for food. Just take the offer, please." He actually sounded like he was pleading him to take the offer. Like he was going to die permanently if he went superheroing without a full stomach. If he had a stuffing kink, Peter would literally cry. And that wasn't a falsetto use of the word literally. He would genuinely cry real, human tears behind that mask if Deadpool came out with a stuffing kink.  
  
Spiderman was debating it, but then he might owe the guy back and he wasn't sure if he could do that. He didn't want to get himself into having problems because he owed Deadpool a favour. The thought alone made him shudder with what sorts of unspeakables he might come up with. With a pained sigh, he decided to walk and talk, as they went down the regular people way of using stairs. "What do you want for it?" But, while walking, Deadpool seemed genuinely shocked to hear something like that. "Want something? Really I wasn't expecting anything, just the pleasure of your company."  
  
The voice sounded so sincere and he couldn't help but wring his hands in front of himself. All this time he'd been told of the horrors Deadpool had committed, all these terrible rumours about being a bad person. Sure, he murdered people for money, but other than that he was genuinely really nice. Or he did actually want something from him, but refused to admit it right now. Maybe he was really horrible to a lot of people, but Spiderman was a soft spot? He doubted it. Exploiting something like that would be easy.  
  
They didn't remove their masks when they got to Domino's, and honestly he was a little surprised to see their faces. There were conflicted emotions, happiness and worry, but it didn't bother Deadpool so he assumed he shouldn't be bothered either. Peter was honestly trying to be as nice as possible so maybe they wouldn't spit in the pizza or something. Deadpool ordered a total of two large pizzas. One was Texas BBQ and the other was Hawaiian. He ordered pretty much every damn side they had, but when it came to paying he barely bat an eye at how much he just blew on one meal for the both of them.  
  
Peter, however, was close to hysterics. "Y'know what? You're definitely insane. Do you know how much food you could've got with that?!"   
  
"Uh, yeah. The amount of food we're going to get, sugar plum. It's like you've never even ordered pizza before." It took him a moment before he gasped loudly, covering what he assumed was his mouth over the mask. "You've never ordered pizza before!" Peter barely got in a "No, wait, I have, but-" before Deadpool was gushing over how he was going to make sure his first time was absolutely amazing, while wrapping both arms around him, one pulling his torso closer the other stroking over his left cheek. Well, that was something to discuss while still in the suits as a middle aged woman walked through the door. She didn't seem impressed, especially when Deadpool took his order and left. "It was $89.63 well spent, now where do you want to go, my place, your place or on a random roof? Ooh! How about the park?"  
  
Honestly, Peter just wanted to go somewhere right now, and he didn't care where. His spidey sense™ wasn't going crazy like usual whenever things were going wrong, so there wasn't any danger right now, apparently. So he shrugged. "The park we might be spotted, and I'm not sure about you, but the police hate me, as does The Bugle. Rooftop? I don't really trust you greatly enough to go to your house or mine."  
  
Although Peter would've been offended, Deadpool just gave a meek laugh. "Yeah, I wouldn't really trust me either. I don't actually trust myself, to be honest." He shrugged and gave his blue and red friend a nudge. "We've gotta take the stairs again. You probably climb a lot of stairs because your ass is immaculate."   
  
Spiderman couldn't find it in himself to laugh, blush or anything really, as he mulled over the words Deadpool had said about trust. Does he just really not trust his own brain or are his thoughts so self deprecating that he couldn't even imagine anything near. He'd worry later, really because right now he had to hurry to catch up to the man upstairs. (Well going up the stairs but same point)  
  
It took at least a couple of minutes but once back in the cool evening air, he took a deep breath of the fresh air before his senses flared.  
  
Deadpool had slipped both arms around his waist and squeezed him into a hug without so much as a second it was so tight that he could feel his ribcage begging for it to stop. He probably should've done something, but he had a gut feeling it probably wasn't going to be too bad. His gut lied. The spidey sense was pretty much a gut feeling, but it was heightened to the point it was basically just a sixth sense. With a wiggle, Deadpool let him go and skipped himself over to the food, of which was already set out neatly. "Hope you don't mind the premise because you chose it."  
  
Hearing him so happy after admitting he wouldn't trust himself made Peter internally flinch. He wished he could be so positive while masking something so dark. He'd already had to cover his depression when Gwen died, and now May was just the cherry on top. He nearly always felt down. Deadpool had given him a break where he didn't have to worry so much, but he still felt kind of bad.  
  
"Are you sure I don't have to pay you back? Because--" Deadpool cut him off with a single finger over where his mouth was, and it was pressed firmly to keep him from talking. Not too hard that it felt awkward, though. It was sort of a comfortable, weight, actually. He sort of missed it when the male removed his hand to replace it back at his side. "Unless you're offering -Of which I wouldn't accept anyway- then no you don't. I'm not going to let you starve. If there's any leftovers you can take them with you too."  
  
Peter found himself smiling wholeheartedly, and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He did actually want to pay him back, as it was way too much to spend on someone like that. However, as just stated, Deadpool probably wouldn't even take the money unless it was hidden somehow without his knowledge and Peter didn't have that kind of access to near enough a hundred dollars just for paying back food.   
  
"You know," Peter started, voice both soft and happy. "from what everyone told me, you're a dangerous mercenary who can't be trusted lest I allow you to straight up murder me, betray me or a rather long list of harmful ideas. Yet you're the only person since my aunt died who's tried to hold a real conversation with me, make jokes and offer to feed me. Hell, unless you're taking it away right now then you are feeding me."  
  
Deadpool seemed genuinely shocked, concerned and a little... confused? "What about your friends?"   
  
Without friends made him seem very sad, so instead he just shrugged as he sat down. At that moment, he heard Deadpool muttering under his breath, probably inaudible if it weren't for his amazing hearing. "I know his friends sound pretty shitty, but who would want to hang with me?... Exactly my point... Oh, oh my god no I couldn't dare. Don't you why me, he'd web me to a wall and leave me for dead!"   
  
Glancing up from the slice of pizza he just picked up, he eyed the male just across from him. "Now why would I do that?"  
  
The "oh shit" he muttered was also very audible. "I forgot your hearing's great. It was just the uh....nothing, no need for any discussion on it." Peter found himself intrigued, but if he was going to withhold information, he might be able to talk his way to it. Possibly. Pulling his mask up so he'd be able to eat, he felt more than saw eyes gravitate to the revealed skin. Taking a bite of the pizza, he held a hand to his mouth so he could speak, chew, swallow without anything going everywhere. Swallowing his mouthful, he spoke up. "I promise not to web you to a wall and leave you for dead, scouts honour."   
  
Looking at him shiftily, Deadpool held out his pinkie expectantly and Peter very nearly laughed. But he used pinkie promises as very real methods of trust. Well, he had that one time a waitress had promised she'd be back on time. She was, but it eased his worried just a little.  
  
Curling his pinkie finger around Deadpools, he waited for the words "I promise" before nodding happily and releasing his hand. "Yellow wanted me to ask if I could be your sugar daddy because I... well, I have a lot of money of which I don't use other than showing off. There's only so many rounds of drinks that don't get you drunk you can buy before you get a little sick of being by yourself. If anyone spends time with me, it's either because they want something or because they have to. Which I guess could be counted as the same thing, but you don't gotta. I mean, it isn't always a sexual thing anyway, sometimes it's just for company. This probably sounds really sad, actually. It's like word diarrhoea, I just can't stop until I've revealed every fucking embarrassing thing about myself. I'll probably laugh about this later. I mean Spiderman with a sugar daddy, can you imagine?"   
  
It was obvious Wade was going to go on, but Peter was thinking about it. It wouldn't be a bad idea, really. He'd be able to live and not have to work himself to the bone both in and out of the suit. It was a really good idea, and he really had to thank his boxes for this, but he quickly interjected to make it known. "I can imagine it." He decided to keep the fact if this were going to be a real deal, he would still be doing this mostly for financial stability.  
  
"Exact-- wait, what? You're kidding, right?" His tone was absolutely serious, and he took his mask off to take a bite of his own pizza. Unlike Peter, though, he wasn't shy about revealing his identity. He was more than likely just eating to quell his word vomit. "I'm not kidding, no. It would mean not working myself to the point I am too tired to go around as Spiderman for as long. I am nearly always sleep deprived, so it would help out more than you can imagine."  
  
On the inside, Deadpool was a good person. If you got to know him well enough, it would be pretty damn fucking visible, but barely anyone got to that point. Some people had seen his sweet side, but usually they were people he'd only met once, possibly twice. One guy who came in told him of a man dressed in a red and black skin tight suit and stopped two males from killing him all because his daughter said she was worried about him. He'd stated that Deadpool claimed his family had paid in advance to get him home unharmed and safe, but once they were dead it was revealed that they were very poor and it was just a hoax.  
  
The guy had a soft spot for kids, and was surprisingly good with them, not including teenagers. But the only reason Peter knew was because the guy came in with his family after ice creams. They went onto the topic of superheroes and the story was brought up. He was really just a big softie, even if he wanted his reputation to stay that of a cold-blooded killer. (He was the very least warm-blooded.)  
  
"So you really want to be my sugar baby?" His voice was soft but not hesitant. A little stunned, still, but definitely didn't sound like he regretted this. "Sure, what sort of things would you like to gain out of it, though? It's a sort of mutually beneficial thing." Taking another bite of his pizza, he watched Wade follow suit. "Well I was hoping you'd set down some ground rules, because you're supposed to be comfortable too. I'm pretty open for whatever, really."  
  
Actually, Peter wasn't too sure on what he did or didn't want out of this. He'd entertained the idea of dating Wade for free actually, so this sort of felt a little horrible, but without the income he would be homeless and unable to eat at all, probably never able to do anything useful. The only useful thing he could do in that situation was die, but he knew full well that his family wouldn't like that. Even if they were dead.  
  
Wade could be handsy when left to it, but it might not be too bad. Nothing sexual until he was ready, maybe? But that might take a while, so he'd leave it open to suggestions. Wade had been very clear he was about consent to things, though, as he wasn't a rapist, though even thinking of him in any light like that was impossible, nearly. The guy was flirtatious, but he wouldn't pull a Donald Trump here.   
  
"Sexual exploits can be left until a later date, but otherwise I'm game for everything relationship-y." Even after saying that, Wade still wanted to clarify a few things.

"So kissing is fine?"

"Yes."

  
"Hand holding?"

  
"Yep." Peter popped the p as he answered.

  
"...Cuddling?"

  
"Oh god yes _please_."

Just as he answered, the scarred male gave a very real(very pleasant) laugh. It was warm and welcome while eating pizza and talking, even if the topic was a little odd. "So what would you like help with, Webs? I recall you saying about being behind on rent, and well, I can fix that."  
  
He was so close to objecting that it was going up, and it was all fine, but that would be an outright lie and so he couldn't. "I... Yes, okay, that would save my ass. Also because I believe being in the suit all the time would be a little uncomfortable for me, I'm going to trust you with my identity. Especially as you're pretty much keeping me alive by this point."  
  
Wade shuffled over to nudge him with his elbow gently. "You don't have to tell me if you aren't ready. I don't mind waiting."  
  
"No, no, I'm ready. I just don't want you to get hurt. This is a reeeally big thing for me, though, so please don't make me regret it." It seemed that Wade didn't much care for his own well-being, and so he just shrugged as Peter tugged his mask off. "Also my name is Peter Parker, for future reference."  
  
The silence that fell over them was to be expected but the warm arms encircling him and a face pressing into his fluffy brown hair was not. "Uh, Wade?"  
  
Instead of speak for a moment, Wade just spent his time warmly snuggling up to Peter, getting used to the fact he had a name and face to the man behind the Spiderman mask. "You're such a baby-faced nerd. How old even are you again?"  
  
"I'm twenty!" He responded defensively, finding his arms winding together in a cross fashion. He wasn't exactly the most pleased that near enough everyone thought he was a kid. "Shut up."  
  
Really, all Wade could do was laugh, slowly easing up his grip on the hero. Mostly because he seemed genuinely angry/upset about being called young. But he was barely 1/5 of the way through his life yet, and was pretty damn tiny. I mean, what was he, 5'4"? (Peter was actually 5'7" but Wade refuses to acknowledge those extra inches.) "You can't even drink alcohol over here, but I will drop the topic. Just for you, baby boy."  
  
For a second, Peter was going to retort that he wasn't a baby and that nickname was ridiculous, but right now, he was technically a baby. A sugar baby, but nonetheless, it counted.  
  
Today was pretty fucked up, but hey, it wasn't declining like he'd assumed from a couple hours ago.


	2. No Sweetener Required

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I go to sleep TWO TIMES and I've already got 6 comments, 13 bookmarks and 63 kudos.  
> I love u guys man <3
> 
> In other news the names of characters/alter egos will never be consistent. Sorry my dudes.

After sorting the small details properly the two were set on this whole... thing. Peter wasn't really sure what to call it, but he didn't want to think too much about it, as it made him feel absolutely dreadful. The thought of having Wade pay for his living opportunities alone felt wrong. The only thing that didn't feel wrong was the relationship part with Wade.  
  
Maybe he could call it off and ask to stay with the guy. Wade was a fairly decent human being, and rather sweet, actually(when he felt like it). Through the whole conversation (Peter may have gotten a tiny bit nervous sometimes) Wade would give him reassuring nudges, rub his arm, ruffle his hair or generally distract him to keep his mind off of anything that made him feel so anxious. Talking about something like this was weird, and he didn't like it, but Wade was not known for his seriousness and so the conversation was light-hearted and after not long at all, it was comfortable, actually.  
  
Phone numbers, however had been a problem.  
  
It was the one thing that they had forgotten about, and Peter did want to be able to message Wade or call him. Generally have _contact info_ on the guy instead of completely disregarding the fact that they needed to _communicate_.  
  
After freaking out about it, scouring the furthest parts of the earth(Just around where the two had met for hours and a little further out) he had found who he was looking for and straight up tackled him in a hug. To say Deadpool was confused would've been an exceptional understatement.   
  
"You really miss me that much, or is there another reason you're trying to strangle me? Because I haven't written you into my will just yet." Peter just scoffed and held on tighter. "I may be poor but I'm not going to try and kill an _immortal_ to collect _inheritance_. That would just be stupid." Shrugging, Deadpool wrapped both arms around his spidey and took a moment to properly hug him. They had only just started out this whole sugar daddy/baby relationship after all, and Deadpool had been deprived of hugs for a very long time. He'd take them where he could.   
  
Spiderman took his time releasing out of the hug, and when he added "But I did miss you," it wasn't long before another embrace ensued.  
  
Today, however, had been a complete 180 from what he was used to.  
  
Work had to be sorted so he didn't take as many extra hours to live, basically, and had his boss at the coffee shop congratulate him on whatever was making him so happy, as customers had been commenting on it all day. He wasn't messing up orders because of sleep deprivation and had been getting more tips for simply being happier and nicer to people than a walking zombie might be.  
  
All in all, it was going pretty damn well, and he couldn't really argue that having scalding coffee spilt on him after the machine went whack was at all too bad. Sure, at the time it hurt and everything, but he had a healing factor. Maybe not as great as some other heroes(cough Deadpool cough), but better him than any of the other servers. Plus the lady that had worried over him was very nice about it and told him to take a break. Apparently she had spare time.  
  
Being on a break wasn't so bad, even if there wasn't much to do but drink free beverages. They sold tea here, but really no matter how well you made it, it always tasted like dirty dishwater. He'd have to ask about getting better teabags or something because the people that ordered tea in here only ordered it once. It would bring in a lot more customers(And he'd be able to steal hot beverages he actually enjoyed very much.)  
  
While sitting at a booth with a cup of hot cocoa, he noticed a fairly tall male walk in, dark hoodie up with both hands in his pockets. If Peter was being honest with himself, he thought that there was going to be a robbery, but as he reached the counter a familiar voice hit his eardrums. "Hi, can I have a black coffee, please? No sugar."   
  
The order sounded absolutely horrible, and rather plain, but as he received the paper cup and took a sip, the words "Not all heroes wear capes" was uttered in a sigh. "Well most of them around here don't, sir." The lady spoke up with quite a light laugh, a smile etched onto her face. It didn't seem completely genuine but either way, the man didn't seem phased. "Yeah. It's like Edna Mode designed them all."  
  
Then it clicked. It was Wade.  
  
Although the order did still sound appalling, he waited until Wade was leaving before calling out to him. If it actually wasn't, then Peter would bury himself in a ditch because oh my god what was he doing.  
  
The man turned to face Peter, and as he looked up the scars covering his face were visible. It was indeed, Wade Wilson. Silently, he made his way over to sit opposite Peter in the booth, still covering his face with the large hood. It was a little sad that he felt the need to do that, but then again, a year or so back he'd mentioned a lot of people vomiting at the sight of his face.  
  
Sure it was a little creepy at first, and did look painful sometimes, but Peter wouldn't go as far to say that it was vomit inducing. After a while, you got used to it. Sometimes he didn't even notice Wade didn't look "normal" in the eyes of society, and in fact, it added to his charm in a way. He wasn't pretty, in fact Wade was pretty ugly but it gave him a dimension to character only certain people had, and Peter liked it.  
  
Wade didn't, but Peter did.  
  
"Why are you covered in unknown substances? Did you wet yourself? Are you cheating on me?!"   
  
Peter was immediately dragged from his thoughts and the questions thrown at him made him think. What was he talking about? Oh. The coffee. Right.  
  
"One of the machines messed up on me, I haven't done anything. Plus, how would I manage to piss that far up on my body _accidentally_?" He was covered from about his chest to thighs in the substance and it'll probably smell like coffee for years to come. (Maybe about a week or so.) It was only his uniform anyway, it wasn't like it mattered as long as it was clean. The whole building smelt like coffee beans, and the worst idea he could illicit would be that he stole coffee from the shop of which he'd probably be allowed to take anyway.  
  
"You tell me, you're the one who masterminded it."  
  
Rolling his eyes, Peter just gently nudged Wade with his foot under the table, in hope that it would distract him enough from what was happening that he wouldn't start shouting anything that came into his mind to the rest of his workplace. In fact he was still curious on how Wade found him here. Was Wade stalking him? Coincidence? Maybe Peter was overthinking this. Wade, however, seemed to have read his mind. "I'm actually here because I passed here earlier and it looked like a cute little shop. I swear I haven't been following you, but after I took care of... something I dropped by. Seeing you was definitely the highlight of my day, though."  
  
"You mean some _one,_ really. Did you get hurt?" Although wade had a healing factor, he still felt pain. Just because he was used to it didn't mean it still didn't have a lasting effect. "Aww, you worried about me? But nah, I've had a lot worse."  
  
Pulling his hoodie and shirt up he revealed the knife wound of which was still healing from the back, forward. It didn't really look too bad, but Peter was almost certain that it had at least punctured a lung. Watching the blood drain from Peter's face, he let go of the fabric and reached over with one hand to ruffle his hair. "I'm fine, sugar, no need to worry that pretty little head of yours."  
  
Subconsciously, Peter reached out with one hand to hold his palm over the wound, barely putting pressure on anything other than the fabric. "Peter?" Wade asked, probably the softest he'd ever heard his own name before. Wade moved Peter's hand away, instead just holding their hands together over the table, running his thumb over the smaller male's knuckles. "Peter, I'm fine. I promise." Immediately the concerns he had were voiced. "But you got hurt."  
  
"Hate to break it to you, but I get hurt a lot."  
  
"That doesn't make me feel any better!"   
  
With an awkward smile, Wade shrugged. "But it also means I'm used to it. I also have work to do, so apologies baby boy, but I've got to get going. I'll text you later, okay?"   
  
Visibly upset that he was leaving, Peter decided that he also had work to do, even if it was probably less painful than being Deadpool. Just as he got up, Wade left a gentle kiss to his cheek, and all he could do, really was stand in the shop stunned as Wade left. It took a good minute until he could force his jelly legs to move, and he went to the counter, very carefully making his way back to get to work.  
  
Lucy(Peter's female colleague) asked him excitedly asked the fateful question. "Who was that?"  
  
"It was my..." _sugar daddy_ , his mind oh so helpfully supplied. "It was my boyfriend."   
  
Thankfully she took his hesitance as embarrassment - of which it was a little bit - and started talking quietly to him about how sweet it was, and that she wasn't going to tell anyone if he didn't want it getting out he was a raging homosexual. He was bisexual, but wasn't really going to bother on specifics with her right now. His brain felt like mush, and thinking coherently was hard, especially as he was still supposed to be working.

 

After work for the day, he got dressed for superhero-ing and messaged Wade to see if he was also coming out, the answer being "Yeah, I'll be out in a bit <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3"  
  
Hopping rooftops for a while, his spidey sense alerted him of a dangerous ordeal going on, and upon using his senses as a mechanism to find where it was(As gunshots had been fired and had told him to watch the fuck out), he found three members ganging up on someone no older than 16. It made his blood boil that they were doing this. Why? "Just hand over your valuables and you wont get hurt, kid. We'll blow your fucking brains out!" It was always money. Nearly always.   
  
Hopping down he landed between the three fully grown men and the 16 year old. "Really? Is that the best you could've come up with?" The glint of a gun alerted him of it's movement, but it didn't get to even prep for shooting, because he webbed the mans hand to his pant leg. Without any warning other than his sixth sense, he found three people turn on him. The man that was originally going to shoot someone was trying to pry his hand off of his trousers, and the teen was also trying to hold him down.  
  
Dodging the first few blows, he managed to get one of the gang members to hit the teen, though he got cocky.  
  
The teen had went down, presumably unconscious, and seeing as his senses were already going haywire he didn't move his foot in time and his ankle got a knife jammed in it and ripped back out again.   
  
One bulkier male gripped around Spidermans arms, holding them to his body and although he could lift a car, he didn't want to injure the man. Especially as most of his brain was working on the fact that he had indeed been stabbed in the ankle, the throbbing pain keeping clear decisions to a minimum.  
  
The gang members left allowed one to punch him violently(The man had gotten his hand free) and the other was searching him. He pulled out a phone and Peter struggled to get it back. Then he heard the text tone. The attackers were helpful enough to read aloud the new messages. "O-M-W" was the last message Peter remembered receiving, but sometimes the tone came in late. Maybe it was that. "Stop wriggling...? Who the fuck is Wade--" They didn't get to finish their sentence as a sword sliced through the air and jammed into the wall millimetres from Peter's right ear.  
  
Although he could've handled it himself, he didn't want to break any arms here. It was pretty hard to use strength without any room to really use it, as well. The man was gripping him tightly, but now, the arms around him loosened and eased up completely until Peter could move freely and used the shock to his advantage. Somersaulting backwards, he forced himself to land on one male's shoulders, trying to ignore the burning pain in his ankle.   
  
Once up it was only a case of doing a layout, forcing the male to fall like dominos onto each other, at which point Spiderman webbed them to the floor and crawled slowly up the wall. It was hard, painful and awkward but as soon as he was close enough, Deadpool leaned over and yanked him up to the roof. "Why didn't you come down and help? That man didn't need to die."   
  
"I like watching you fight- What happened to your ankle?" Glancing down, he noticed the pool slowly forming around his raised foot to avoid putting pressure on it. "Nothing important. Can we go?" He asked, just wanting to get out of it as soon as he possibly could. He could go home, patch himself up, possibly even just fall asleep in his suit. Nobody would notice.   
  
Deadpool shook his head, scooping _his_ baby boy up to hold him against his chest. If Wade went bridal it would mean less control, but with Peter's thighs around his hips(Admittedly he'd never imagined it clothed, but...) it was easier to carry him and meant he might be allowed to touch the butt with good reason. In the end, he went with holding his thighs, but as soon as Peter leant closer to snuggle up for the ride back, his boxes were screaming at each other.  
  
  
_He is leaning on us._ Why _is he_ leaning _on us?!  
  
  
_**I don't know! Maybe he's lost a lot of blood and is about to pass out. It's only logical.**  
  
  
_Fuck logic, just let our imagination take over._  
  
  
They seemed to keep arguing the whole way back, and although used to them, it did still irritate him. It was probably for the best not to intervene. For now he focussed on Peter. How calm he seemed, his eyes were closed, features relaxed and a little tired. But he was awake, because every so often he'd peek one eye open to check on Wade before closing it again. Sometimes his thighs would squeeze around his hips when jumping from building to building, and the way his legs felt when the muscles shifted under his hands. The fact that he was pressed so close to- Oh god he has a boner.  
  
Praying that Peter wouldn't notice, he just kept going, until he reached his own apartment, trying to think of dead puppies and his own face. He'd never really thought much about upgrading even with his money, because there was no point. Sure, there would be more room for junk, but he pretty much had everything he wanted - material wise - anyway. If he got a bigger house, it would be one that had barely anything in it. Buying bullshit to fill rooms all the time didn't seem like a smart investment.   
  
The man was injured, and thinking of all the horrible things that might happen to Peter if it wasn't cleaned properly and bandaged up right made him quick to forget about previous thoughts and hurry to get him inside and patched up.  
  
Slowing down for the stairs, Spiderman offered to walk, but that was not happening. It might end up making it worse or something, so instead, he took the boy up and only placed him down when he had to find his keys. Once the door was open, Peter hobbled in, basically just hopping himself over and sat down on the sofa. It was worn and comfortable, but he still hoped it wasn't too bad.  
  
Nearly immediately, Wade took off his mask for precision purposes and got the first aid kit. Top shelf in the kitchen, probably much too high for spidey to reach without climbing on something. Bringing it back, he spotted Peter having removed his mask and leaning over the couch to watch him as he hurried around like a headless chicken. "You're really sweet, y'know. I'll be fine."  
  
Wade nearly exploded in a flurry of emotions, but instead just fiddled with the first aid box, sitting down on the coffee table in front of him. "Give me your ankle." Usually Wade would suggest going to the hospital, but he knew how Peter could be, and the fact that he wasn't all human. He didn't want to let Peter get experimented on like him.   
  
Peter lifted his injured leg up and sat it on Wade's legs. As he studied the wound, he made sure not to touch it, or try to move the fabric around gently without causing too many problems. It seemed to have at least started healing, as it was no longer bleeding, but it would take a week, maybe more to heal completely. Wade had experience from something in patching up wounds, but he couldn't quite place where exactly it was from. But he knew it used to be a big part of his life and he'd watched a lot of people die.  
  
Things in his brain were hazy, so he didn't dwell on it, but as he looked up at Peter, he was waiting for some sort of sign that it would be okay. Of course it would, because he did still heal much faster than the average human, but maybe he should take some time off. "I would advise not working for the time being-" Peter groaned loudly and irritably but Wade just raised his voice to be heard over him. "-But I will cover you and make sure you're well fed and don't die, okay? Until then, you're bedridden."   
  
Although Peter wasn't impressed and pouting like a spoiled child, he wasn't arguing back. "If you do stay here then you can take the bed, if not I'll drop by often to check on you. You're not going to work in this state, you doofus." Sighing, Peter just gave a defeated "okay" before lolling his head back against the back of the couch.   
  
"Also you will have to keep the wounded area free of clothing to give it air." Squinting, Peter looked at him for a moment before reaching back to remove what Wade thought was a shirt. "Whoa whoa whoa, only what's constricting the injury. I mean, sure, it you want to get naked for me go right ahead, but it's not really appropriate right now."  
  
"This is a bodysuit. It is not in parts, Wade." As though it were obvious, he rolled his eyes and Wade was left to hurry into his room to try and find something to fit Peter. It wasn't as easy as most would think, because their size difference was something else completely. But, although Peter was scrawny and short, Wade managed to find something. The shirt would probably end up being a dress of sorts, but it would mean that even if the pants didn't fit he'd be covered.  
  
Holding the shirt out he pulled it over Peter's head as soon as he came back into the room, and the shorter was left to pull his arms in after it was on. "Why'd you do that?" He asked, obviously confused on why exactly he'd just had a shirt pulled over him randomly. "So you can be decent? I can take it back off and hand it to you if you want."  
  
In all honesty, Peter was tempted. He wasn't an infant and could dress himself, but it would be completely pointless. Wade uttered an "I thought as much" and sat back down to properly patch up Peter's ankle. Removing his red and black gloves and putting on the latex gloves he had in the first aid kid, he set to work on cleaning the wound properly. Every flinch of the hydrogen peroxide made Wade feel awful, but it had to be done so it wouldn't get infected or something, so after just cleaning around the edges he picked up a bottle of water to generally try to rinse out anything that might still be in there.   
  
Properly stitching the wound would be less help than if he just left it, as he hadn't any sterile needles on him. So, instead, he just decided that bandaging would be the best solution. Using a light coat of bacitracin, he butterfly-bandaged up the area without any glitches and went over it again in a regular bandage just to be on the safe side.  
  
Once it was done, he returned Peter's leg to the floor and nudged him gently. "You should probably get some sleep, jelly baby." Peter gave a weak groan, and Wade took that as a signal of yes, he did indeed need sleep.   
  
Hefting up the poor injured boy, he settled him down on the bed and tucked him in. Everything else wasn't really important right now, but before he could leave, Peter gripped onto his wrist. He didn't speak, but instead patted the spot next to him on the bed, and with a nod he eased Peter's vice grip away.  
  
Changing into pyjamas and removing his shoes, he shuffled himself under the bedding leaving a fair amount of room between the two. Peter seemed to have not got the memo, because he had shuffled closer and snuggled himself right up to Wade, both lithe arms curled around him affectionately. With a kiss to his forehead, the two drifted off in a comfortable sleep, of which neither of the two had had in a long time.  
  
Mysterious, handsome, athletic... these are three words that have nothing to do with Wade Winston Wilson. He'd never met anyone like Wade, and probably never would, but he didn't much want to, as the charming, funny and weird guy he was currently with was all that really counted.


	3. Doubt is in the Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So many people to disappoint.  
> I may not respond to every comment, but I read every single one and oh man it's probably the only reason I haven't forgotten to keep it going. (Even after only a couple days)  
> Thanks for reading!

When Waking up, Peter expected to find Wade somewhere nearby at the least, preferably cuddled right up close. But no, he was nowhere to be seen in his own bedroom. Instead, Peter was left alone in the bed.   
  
The space next to him was still slightly warm, so he probably hadn't got up very long ago. Slipping out of the covers, he was about to stand up before he remembered his ankle. Right. Barely any pressure and it should be fine. He had to say he felt a lot better than when he usually had knife wounds, though. Maybe it was just because Wade really seemed to know what he was doing.   
  
With a tiny bit of hesitance, he made his way to the door carefully to see if Wade was anywhere in the apartment, but the closer to the door he heard the singing in the other room. It was a little bit off key, but if he could wake up to that every day he would.   
  
The song he didn't recognise, but obviously Wade had it down, because his voice matched with the lyrics neatly. Like this was a regular occurrence. Maybe a little quieter as he had a visitor, but Peter pushed the door open and quietly made his way into the living room. Wade hadn't spotted him, and so he leaned on the back of the sofa with one arm, just standing on his good leg and watching quietly.  
  
It was quite amusing to watch a big guy like that sing dumb songs, but as soon as he was spotted, Wade nearly screamed. Instead, he waited a short moment before continuing with the song, a smile spreading over his face. " _So don't stop, don't stop. Ooh you caught me off guard. Don't stop, I love the way the way you don't stop, don't stop._ " He paused, surprisingly graceful as he made his way over and took both of Peter's hands.   
  
Wade hummed the rest of the bridge to the song, passionately swaying with fingers locked to Peter's. It made him sway as well, and he couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of him. " _Dancing alone while everyone's cashed out,_ " He walked backwards to lead Peter towards the kitchen, being slow and very clearly concerned on if he held his weight right and off of his foot. " _Come on now I insist. And we'll get the last song stuck in our heads, It goes a little like this;"_  
  
Although he was also cooking pancakes, he managed to keep the rhythm of whatever sort of dance this could be called. It was pretty amusing, and yet so much fun. He hadn't actually laughed properly like this since all his friends and family were alive. Wade twirled Peter and flipped a pancake simultaneously, and Just as Peter lost his balance, the older male played it off as a dip. " _Blame it on the wine, the night we were talking 'til dawn, like that you had me down for the count_."  
  
After Peter rolled his eyes with a small snort of a laugh, Wade stood him back up, and instead of dance fully, just shook his hips to the music, plating up the pancakes that were already done, still singing but more subdued. " _Never thought you'd make a move out of the blue, I love the way you're freaking me out._ " Really, Peter couldn't help but feel that this setting was rather domestic, but maybe being stuck not going to work wasn't so bad. It had barely been a few days that they'd been in this type of agreement, but he already felt comfortable in it. With Gwen things moved slowly, and everything was hesitant for a while. With Wade, he didn't have to make any moves, all he had to do was respond with a go ahead or not yet.  
  
As of yet, Wade hadn't made any moves Peter wasn't comfortable with, and waking up to breakfast and a singing, mentally 5 years old adult in the kitchen was something that he wanted. A lot. But his singing still wasn't too amazing.  
  
Having the syrup thrown over, Peter caught it without so much as a second thought, and at the first bite of pancakes and syrup he felt like he'd died. They were absolutely amazing, and if he'd never been able to try the pancakes he would have not lived life to the fullest. A soft hum of approval was very much appreciated in Wade's eyes, and he felt a pang of achievement. At least he could pride himself on his cooking, and possibly the amount of money he had.  
  
"Okay so you probably need your own clothing if you're going to spend time here. As much as I _love_ seeing you in my clothing, I love seeing you in clothing that fits nicely more." It was obvious he was indicating they go to his place and pick up some of his clothing, or at least he go there, but honestly Peter was hesitant about answering. If Wade went into his house, he'd see how unorganised it was. Possibly even how awful it looked inside the building. Oh god, he'd probably be able to guess Peter lived the poor life as soon as the rent was due.   
  
As Peter thought of how horrible it might be to allow Wade into his horrible house, Wade was already thinking of buying him new clothes. "You want me to just buy you something? So then if you stay here ever again you'll have something to wear here. Plus you don't have to panic like you are now."   
  
Poor Peter looked like a deer in headlights.  
  
"Say what? I'm not panicking."   
  
"Uh, yeah you are. That answer alone answers it. You're so expressive I see why your mask isn't. I can read you like a childrens book, baby boy. It isn't a bad thing, but I don't want you to worry." Thinking about what would happen if his expressions were really that readable and an enemy managed to pick out what made him tick. "B-But I don't-... I don't need clothing, I like wearing yours."  
  
The noise Wade made was something akin to a cough and a laugh. "Flattery doesn't charge these batteries, civilian. Just let me spoil you a little. I haven't had a real chance to yet." Although Peter was reluctant, and didn't much want to waste money, Wade was giving him puppy-dog eyes. That was supposed to be his job, but either way, he gave a quiet "fine" and Wade kissed his cheek and hugged him tightly. " ** _But_** ," Peter started "You may only spend liberally on one item."  
  
It was Wade's turn to whine. "That gives me barely any options!"  
  
In the end, they both agreed that one item of Wade's choice could be anything clothing related, but Peter would have no say on what it was and it could be a surprise. Wade was still a little upset, but in the end he still got to spend something on his sugar baby.   
  
The stores were mostly cheap sorts, ones that you could get near anything for barely anything. Primark or Forever 21 was the first choice, and he managed to get a couple of shirts, a few pairs of sweats and some comfortably tight jeans in Peter's size.(For after his ankle was healed.) Underwear and jumpers were vital, as winter was arriving fast, and underwear was an everyday thing. Extra toothbrush, maybe some hair gel. Do people nowadays use that? He wasn't too sure so he picked it up anyway. Extra things for his first aid kit because although he may not need them, he'd used most of his last supplies last night because he had never expected to need to use them.  
  
It only took a little longer than he would've spent in any other shop, but he spent his time reading everything to make sure that it was something that may be useful. He hadn't been in a pharmacy in some time, actually, and it was weird. Somewhere he didn't know everyone, nor speak to them on a fairly regular basis. Either way, the point was he got his stuff and left promptly.  
  
Last item to get was something of his choice. It would definitely be fun to See Peter's face, as he had decided on something he could take home with him and wear about often. And it was going to be the best fucking coat he'd ever gotten.

 

Upon going into his house once more, he found Peter watching a Dreamworks movie on netflix. As he closed the door, Peter shifted to see who it was and the way his face brightened meant he was at least excited to see him.  
  
When walking in, Wade felt like Santa. "Got something neat for you. I made sure to leave the receipts so you don't get all pissy at me, but the item I was allowed to buy of my own accord has had the tags removed so it can't be returned nor found out the price of. Buuuut," He reached into a bag briefly before pulling out a deep navy pea coat, with dark fur lining of which was both soft and warm. It was neat, useful and fashionable, and as he held it out to Peter, he shook his head rapidly. "I-I can't take that-!"   
  
"Like hell it's going to fit me. It's getting colder and you said one item. I abided by the rules" Something like this wouldn't go to waste, so he made sure it was very well known that he was grateful.   
  
Before even taking the coat, he instead pushed it aside after hopping up, pulling Wade into a rather cuddly hug. Peter had found that he missed having the warm hugs from those he loved, and although he didn't know Wade spectacularly, he was hoping that it would eventually change. I mean, they were subject to it, especially if Peter was involved(of which he was).  
  
With a squeeze, he let go just slightly to be a little less than nose to nose. "Why a coat? I was hoping you'd forget, if I'm honest." Instead of an immediate answer, Wade smiled and placed both hands on the little waist Peter had. "Because it should last you a good year." Even if Peter would most probably be so careful with it that it'd last a good five maybe more. But right now it didn't matter, because he could pretty much feel every word against his own lips, of which caused him to push up onto his toes, wrap both arms over Wade's shoulders to pull him down slightly, but his brain screamed at him.  
  
No, he couldn't. Not yet.  
  
So, he just pulled away completely and sat down on the sofa, looking up at Wade, of whom still looked a little frazzled.  _He was totally going to kiss us,_ White chanted in Wade's head.  _It totally would've been great._  
  
**But he didn't. Get over yourself. He's just in this for the financial support. Probably doesn't care at all about us.**  
  
_Maybe, but he's still nice. Even if he just needs support, who are we to complain? He's been sweet so far, and doesn't seem to want to take more than he has to._  
  
"I never thought I'd see the day you made a good point there," Wade muttered unusually quiet. Mostly because of the company, but he was doubting himself. Peter probably didn't want to kiss him because he was a downright ugly freak.  
  
It was possible Peter liked him for who he was, sure, but who could love that _face_? It wasn't something even a mother could love. He made jokes and himself feel worse about it, but really it was something he hated. even if he didn't let it show on the outside. It could be exploited, and that wouldn't turn out well.  
  
**Just give him the money he needs and keep the kid at arms length. Most likely further, for his own good. Nothing pleasant comes from hanging around us.**  
  
Yellow was right.   
  
Usually Yellow was right, but this time especially. Often whenever things went wrong it was because of him, and Peter had gotten stabbed because he didn't show up fast enough. He would've spotted if someone had aimed a pointy object at his sugar baby. Maybe he should just call the whole thing off.  
  
Getting back into the loop of current reality, he realised Peter had asked him a question while he was wallowing in self deprecating thoughts. "Uh, sorry, could you repeat that?"  
  
Peter didn't mind repeating his query apparently, and voiced "Do you want me to pull the movie back for you?" Wade glanced to the television, and noticed the movie was Over The Hedge. He'd seen it a couple of times, but it was a pretty good movie, so he gave a brisk nod before slumping down next to Peter. He was facing him, back leaning against a pillow on the armrest, knees up right next to Spidey.   
  
Just after the movie was rewound and the two were comfortable, though, Peter ignored the bubble known as "personal space" and just like last night snuggled up to him. Except this time it involved prying Wade's knees apart and resting between his legs.  
  
As much as Wade wanted to push Peter away, the feeling of him laying down comfortably, head rested just over his heart, he couldn't. He had been attached to the boy since he could last remember, and with such little space between the two of them and an agreement that allowed him to do all this mushy bullshit that made him oh so happy was nice. He was nice.  
  
**You do realise he's going to rip our heart up, right? Toss it on the ground like nothing happened. Maybe even trample on it a bit for good measure.**  
  
"Later is later, shut the fuck up. Let me enjoy this."   
  
Peter gave a short laugh at him, turning his cheek to gaze up at him. "Want me to rough 'em up for you, Wade?" He asked softly, and now it was the older males turn to laugh. "That would be amazing, but I don't want my ass whooped by a tiny injured teen."   
  
Even if Peter was offended, he didn't complain about being called a teen, as there wasn't really a point. He was only a year out. So, the two laid there and watched the childrens movie, occasional commentary being thrown.

 

As soon as Peter might have be good to go into work, everything went to hell.   
  
Wade was currently being held captive by the guy he was sent to murder. He'd gotten a neat shot lined up yet the man moved just as he fired, leaving the hit to his shoulder.   
  
The man had been marked as dangerous, and most people knew of this, as he was a well known criminal, but Deadpool was the most wanted mercenary. It wasn't going to be a hard job, especially as the guards were mostly outside of the doors instead of in them. Just pop in and out, simple as.  
  
Apparently not. Now he was tied to a chair, stripped of his weapons and his mask. For once he was kind of glad that the man felt queasy looking at him, as it meant he got to keep his mask on for now. "I hear you've been sent to kill me," the man started out, "Well you won't be achieving your goal tonight. First you're going to tell me everything you know and then I'll kill you. Because, you know it's been a long time since I tortured anyone. Probably the year of '06..." The man continued to speak, but Deadpool blocked it out.  
  
_What's with villains and the monologuing? It doesn't do shit for anyone._  
  
**Probably why the writer is skipping out on it.**  
  
_Or because the nerd can't think of shit to say. Either way it's irritating as fuck._  
  
"We can talk about who's a nerd later, but for right now we need a plan." He mumbled silently to himself, so quiet the man couldn't hear.   
  
**We could get Spidey involved. But our phone is in our pocket and shouting won't do anything.**  
  
_God knows, God knows I want to break free_  
  
Just as White started singing songs by Queen, Wade popped his wrist out of place, silently sliding it out of the restraints and while the mans back was turned, tried to use the broken wrist to fish out a phone. It fell to the floor loudly, and the man whipped around, picked up the phone and looked it over. 12 missed calls and three messages were on screen, but like that mattered right now.  
  
The man snapped his fingers and two guards from outside the door came in, restraining Wade properly and keeping his limbs secured to the point they were painful. Even with broken bones it would take a lot to get out. Probably lube, too. Possibly just a knife.  
  
"Spidey? The amazing Spiderman? Today just keeps getting better and better, huh? Well, the more the merrier. So, why don't we call your boyfriend in tights, make this gathering a party?" Just as Deadpool went to object, the man hit the call button.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuuun
> 
> Okay so everything has been fairly sweet and aww, so far, so I decided that I would like some neato plot too. Promise that it will still mostly be fluff, but someone has to ruin the peace on the third chapter, right? Also lmao I'm probably not going to have regular updates so keep an eye out friends! They may also not be as long (maybe) because I have things to do outside of writing gay nerds. But I'll probably end up coming back as fast as I can on the trashy train so
> 
> Yeah, upd8s may be scarce from here on out BUT I will try my best. May be shorter(also may not be) yada yada yada I will make it up to you guys.


	4. If You Do Not Bend, You Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a million years and I'm back to bring a conclusion to what happened(it's prolly got like one or two chapters left but until im certain this could be considered an ending??). That cliffhanger went on too long apologies. There is also light gore, but that's to be expected, right?

Just as Peter's worry was steadily growing, a call from Wade lit up his phone. The problem being, Wade didn't usually call because he was usually doing things that involved being too busy to speak or just texting as a better option. He seemed to be quick at it, and the call was making him more nervous.  
  
Before the call could end, he picked it up, listening carefully. Instead of starting with Wade's name, he said a simple "Hello?"   
  
The voice on the other end wasn't Wade, and so he started to dress himself in his Spiderman garb of which had been washed, ready and waiting for a couple of days now. Leaving the mask off, though, because fuck that would involve not listening to what the man was saying. "Spiderman. Never thought such a delinquent would have your number. Pray tell what sort of arrangement he managed to drag you into. I'm curious."  
  
It was clear this man had no social skills and was not used to this business. He sucked at this. He also wanted to thank Wade properly for not saving his name as Peter. It was obvious who they were talking about in texts.   
  
"Oh for gods sake, just tell me where you are so I can beat your ass." Peter mumbled hurriedly. He wasn't in the mood for long winded explanations, nor details of how he was injuring Deadpool right now.   
  
It was also made known that the phone was on speaker, as Deadpool was heard going "oooooooooh somebody's in trooooubbbblllle" because Peter couldn't have been that loud. The man just gave a maniacal laugh, before responding. "The abandoned building near the docks. Don't keep us waiting."  
  
Deadpool shouted in the background "Don't worry baby boy take your time!" before the line went dead. Of course he wasn't going to listen to that, and pulled his mask over his face before jumping out the window.  
  
Webbing his phone to his hip, he made the journey quick and effortless, even if his legs were burning. As much as Deadpool irritated him sometimes, he wouldn't leave him in a torture situation any longer than he had to. Of course, everything had to be barred up, making it awkward to really just sneak in. He was going to have to do it in the true Deadpool fashion and barge in guns blazing.  
  
He may not have known which floor it was on, but as he hopped over the lip of the abandoned building, he made his way down slowly, focussing his hearing on where people were and who's voices were speaking. The guards he could hear were on the other side of the building, blocking the other set of stairs  
  
"You know," Deadpool started, "I've always wondered what it'd be like for someone to really like me. Y'know? Like, like like me, but it's probably never going to happen." The unknown male that sounded similar to the one on the phone groaned, and a repetitive hit of blade against flesh making contact was heard. "Shut up shut up shut up!"   
  
The voice was irritated, but Peter couldn't find a way in. The lower windows were cemented over, even if the top ones were just barred, and he had to go to the higher ones and run down a million sets of stairs. Pulling the borders away, he found himself in an echo-ey room and it was seriously messing with him.  
  
"I'm not telling _you that_. You stabbed me like... 37 times in the chest, this ain't llamas with hats, _Carl_." Deadpool spoke through a mouthful of blood, his breathing coming out in wheezes and strained sounding noises. Just as Peter made it down, two guards assaulted him, trying to get a good angle on the human hybrid.   
  
It was clear that this was not working out for them, as when he went to kick one and he thought fast on his feet, predicting it would be not only blocked but also restrained in place, so he went to punch the other with the exact same reaction.  
  
One strained, yet smooth looking movement was all that it took for the two to go down. Spiderman lifted his other leg and his free arm to grab on, yanking the two together with his strength and making their heads collide. Both were down, unconscious, and that just left the man labelled as Carl. There hadn't really been much commotion, so nobody had been alerted and made their way to the other fucking side that he was surprised wasn't just as blocked. He wasn't sure it was good at all, but as soon as he made it into the room, Deadpool was missing two fingers on his gloves and one of his legs was still forming tendons. His mouth had very clearly been sewn shut tightly, because his lips had been ripped apart from where he had torn his mouth open. Some threads were still hanging from his bloody mouth, but he gave a smile as Peter came in.  
  
Spidermans look of pure horror behind the mask made him flinch back slightly. He should've been faster, Wade was hurt. Heading straight over, he should've known it wasn't going to be that easy, and as soon as he took a step within reach, the man paused. "You took out my guards..." He seemed in disbelief but Spiderman didn't have time to really tell him he put them in the wrong fucking places. He wanted to get out of here, it didn't smell right. As he got within reach of Wade, the man started laughing, and as Peter went to remove the restraints, the man just laughed even harder, pressing a remote button that slowly brought the metal restraints down, leaving wriggle room to zilch and breathing room to difficult. It was crushing his ribcage by this point, as metal chair restraints weren't going to give way for him when he needed to take a breath.   
  
For the first time in his career he struggled. This brought too many memories of weapon X back, and he could feel his bones breaking. He knew he would be fine, but he didn't want it to last longer than it had to.  
  
Peter had already tried to take the remote with only one button, but as he managed to web it so he could use it, he found that there was nothing. He clicked the button again, but nothing.  
  
The man in the suit just cackled, and started tearing up. "You think I'd make a switch labelled 'off' on a torture device? I couldn't switch it off even if I wanted to, buddy!" He whipped out a walkie talkie no bigger than the size of his hand and was about to call his guards over, but his voice shouted. "Wait!"

 

The silence was unbearable, and usually Wade would fill it. The man was actually waiting, so he made a bolt for the chair to release him, but he pulled a gun with his free hand. "Oh no, you aren't letting your friend here go until he's crushed. Nobody messes with me, not even an immortal. I have to send a message, and if I let the two of you go, what the fuck kind of image will that leave of me? Immortal and bug boy finish off the only opponent that could've fucked over them all, but decided to allow one to go free to let his fuck buddy free. I'm not letting some boy toy get the best of me." He paused, mulling over his options, and as he did, Wade spoke up in nothing less than a raspy whisper, of which only Peter could hear. "Just go," he said with the last of the air in his lungs, but Peter refused to leave him.   
  
"You know what. I don't need my guards, I'll finish you off myself."

 

With barely a moments notice, he dodged a bullet aimed straight towards his head, and immediately heard the telltale click of the next round of the pistol. It wasn't the easiest thing trying to free someone whilst being shot at, but he was strong. However, it was much too tight for him to get a real hold of the bars encircling Wade's neck. He thought that was the most important right now. "I can't get a grip! I'm not clingy enough!"   
  
The snicker Deadpool let slip was only a little audible as he was so, so quiet by now and Peter groaned, swivelling out of the way of another shot, but he was no longer aiming at his head. In fact he hit one of his web shooters and if the other one was left exposed he would hit that one too. The webbing inside exploded out in a burst over the two of them, and if Wade could make a witty remark about spider spunk, he was almost certain he would've, but he didn't. He couldn't breathe.  
  
His own webbing had been his downfall in the fight, but although it was strong webbing, he was stronger. Ripping it apart, he found his other webshooter hit, another load of webbing firing out everywhere.   
  
The last bullet in the gun was left pressed to his forehead, and the man just beamed at him. "Shot down, buddy."

  
**If we don't get ahold of ourselves we're going to die again, and that's going to leave Peter dead.**  


_Yeah, but we can't exactly get out either. Maybe Spidey will do something really cool to save us and get out of this mess._  


**That's unlikely, as even though his ass is great, and he is nice for the moment, he isn't exactly a miracle worker. He isn't immortal either, so he's fucked.**  
  


Wade by this point was blacking out, however he did manage to watch a blur of his baby boy grab onto the webbing stuck to the ceiling and flip himself over so quickly even if he wasn't going unconscious it probably wouldn't have been clear. The gun flicked up into the air and clattered onto the floor just as Wade's vision went black. Peter gave a swift, hard kick to the mans breastbone, knocking the air out of his lungs as he was forced back into the concrete wall. Now was the time he hurried to sort Wade out, yanking the metal chair from it's near sockets on the floor. It stopped moving, but was still trapped hard in place. Kneeling behind the chair, he ripped the back open, sorting through what he had to bend and what he had to break. It took roughly two minutes as Peter was still panicking, hurrying to try and make sure Wade's systems didn't shut down completely, even after his healing factor he was uncertain if he would survive it. Then again, he hadn't seen the guy get decapitated before and didn't much want to think on it.  
  
Once the restraints were released, he pulled the corpse of Deadpool out of the chair. He could hear all of the guards coming due to the gunshots, but they seemed to have forgotten which room they were bloody protecting because they were taking their sweet time getting there. Not that Peter didn't appreciate it, he just thought they were a little bit shitty.  
  
"Wade? Are you there? You with me?" Peter asked, voice soft and trembling. They were running out of time, and if he had to take a corpse back he had no webshooters and a jacked up ankle. He wasn't moving. This was bad indeed.  
  
Well, looks like he didn't have much of a choice.  
  
Hefting Wade up onto his back, he held onto his thighs, and started making his way out, being sure to go up the same way he came in. This is where he would have to Peter Parkour his way out of here. Possibly take the stairs, even if he could still climb. But he couldn't climb if he had to hold Wade, he would need to be awake for that. Although it would be ideal for Wade to wake up back in his own house, Peter's flat was closer. So, hopping over the rooftops with a dead weight(Literally, not figuratively) he managed to reach the roof of his place, climbing as carefully as he could down the fire escape, pulling open his window and climbing inside. He laid Wade's corpse on his bed and prayed to whatever higher being may or may not be up there that he would actually wake up and he hadn't dragged a corpse here with no reason.   
  
Peter decided to take his mind off of it by taking the big boots off, setting them down by the bead and leaving Wade to seem like he was just sleeping. Fully kitted out in his bed. It was possible. He covered him with the duvet just in case.  
  
With that sorted as far as he could go, he went into the kitchen to make the noodles he had in the cupboard. He only had about three packets left, but they were quality noodles that tasted good. Today was a good enough reason to eat one of the last few packets he owned. 

 

 

Whilst cleaning what was left of the wound on his ankle several hours after he had brought Wade back, he heard a loud gasp that sounded like someone that had just emerged from nearly drowning, and he was almost positive it was Wade. Then, he heard a scream. "Holy fuck where am I? My corpse has been kidnapped and Petey is dead." Was all he heard before he hurried to go into the room, but as he even twisted the doorknob he heard another scream, and then a thud.  
  
"Wade? It's me, are you okay?"  
  
Although Wade didn't seem to believe it was actually Peter, and as soon as he opened the door he felt a knife against his throat. It was small, but very sharp as he could already feel a warm trickle of blood from the pressure of the knife against his neck. "Are you a hallucination? A simulation? A lookalike come to claim what's left of my sanity?"  
  
The fear flashed over his face, but Wade didn't stop and as he reached up to try and move the knife away it pressed a little further into his neck. "No no, sweetheart, this isn't a fucking game. If you're the real Peter tell me your shoe size, your age-" He seemed to be mulling it over with the boxes and then continued, "No wait, that shit would be obvious if they had killed my little Petey. Tell me something you know about me or you'll be going to sleep for a very long time, impostor."  
  
"Okay, so your name is Wade Winston Wilson-" He was cut off by an "everyone knows that!" but Peter just continued. "I have known you for a while but never really had any serious conversations with you until recently. I know your shoe size is an 11, I know that you're a little bit nuts but that's okay because it's you. I know that you have two boxes in your head that are different consciousnesses of sorts, all of which are you, I know that you want to be cared for in a meaningful way," The knife was pulling away from his neck slightly the longer he went on and Wade gripped it with white knuckles. "I know you make jokes, but have a lot of problems with self confidence and the way you perceive yourself no matter how exuberant or confident you sometimes seem. I know that when you take off that mask you feel less desirable." Wade held the knife back up to his neck, hand gripping it so tightly that he was surprised the cramps hadn't started yet. "and I know that the longer I go on the more you realise how all of this is true. I know that I have been rebuffing your affections for years because I didn't know what I wanted, didn't know if things would work out. I knew that I was scared of what might happen because of things like this and I now know that you wouldn't hurt me without a real reason. That you're a sweet, affectionate and caring person of whom I like a lot. So will you please take this knife away from my throat, it's making me want to cough."  
  
Wade seemed reluctant at first, and eventually removed the small knife from his neck, letting his arm drop to his side and the knife slip from his fingers. He just turned around and covered his masked face with his hands.  


**Great, we almost fucking killed him. Good going.**  
  
  
"Wade?" Peter asked, holding a sleeve to his neck. He didn't turn around, just mumbled a weak "go away".  
  
"Wade, I'm not leaving any time soon so will you please turn to face me. It's rude." 

As the tall, bulky man turned around he faced him, fists clenched by his side, and Peter reached up to whip the mask off. Wade was crying big, bubbly tears and his nose was all snotty, but Peter reached up to pull him into a hug, and as soon as arms were around him, Wade crumpled into a ball, sobbing into Peter's shoulder. They ended up sitting on the floor.  
  
With patience and gentle hands, he waited it out, reassuring him softly that it was okay, shit happened and he wasn't going to leave. He would forever be here for him and wasn't going to leave.   
  
"Shit, Parker, I meant something like your favourite colour is pink, not all out."  
  
With a reassuring pat and tender touches aimlessly running over his back, he leaned his cheek on top of Wade's head. "I'm sorry. I can make you some noodles as an apology?"  
  


 

"I'd like that."


	5. Laughter is the Best Medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is super short but it's because it's not out as late as I intended. May get longer next time I post something but who doesn't love some good ol fluff. Ish

The noodles had ended up being sub-par at best, but food right now, any food at all, was appreciated. Especially as someone as poor as Peter still had herbs and spices in one tall cupboard, apparently unused but still in date.  
  
Wade didn't much want to talk about what Peter had said, nor think about it, even if the boxes in his head kept reminding him. Peter - bless his heart - decided on ignoring it for the moment and try and take his mind off of it, even if only a little. I mean, there was only so much you could do to silence voices in your brain. "So don't you get cramps? Like in your hands or legs? Because I know you've got a healing factor but it doesn't make sense to come under the same category. Usually cramps are caused by dehydration, fatigue, or carbon dioxide levels in the blood being too low, but-" Wade cut him off politely with a "Nah, unless I stop breathing I don't get cramps usually. Back in that chair? Ho boy did my hands start to burn. But I can block most pain out so it kind of doesn't matter."  
  
With a quiet voice, almost a whisper, Peter said with a frown, "It matters to me."  


Silence was the next thing that followed and GOD was it awkward. Not like one of those silences where everyone feels comfortable doing whatever, in this case eating the last remnants of noodles, but one of those silences that just makes you feel bad for not filling it, so much so that you want to rip your own eyeballs out just to find a conversational topic.  
  
"Soooo... you like me, huh? Real stupid decision there, buddy. Not a good idea. If I were you, I would keep doing what you were doing and shoving those feelings to the deepest darkest pit of whatever the fuck because hanging around me doesn't help anything. It always makes things worse, this wont ever go away and I wouldn't recommend anyone to willingly get involved with it if they can. Hell I was tempted to call off being your cash, baby boy. Well, not completely, I mean I would've paid for you to keep doing what you're doing, but kept you at arms length away from all the drama, mama. Y'know what I'm saying?" More than completely focus, he just absorbed what Wade was saying, and after he had finished he replayed the whole response over in his head. Wade watched the cogs turning in his head, and waited for a reply of sorts, a motion for him to continue to fill the silence that he didn't want to settle on thick enough you could see it.  
  
With a voice, still fairly small, he started. "I can't just stop my emotions, I'm very in touch with them. I don't want to just take your money and run. Plus, I got involved the second I took the mask off around you. I knew what I was getting into, even if I did jump myself in at the deep end. I know what you do, and what dangers you go through, but I don't really care, now can we stop with all this serious stuff, it's making me feel bad."  
  
With a small salute, Wade went silent, but he kept running over the serious topics in his head.  
  
  
**We aren't stupid even if we act careless sometimes. If Peter knows this, then he obviously can't tell that his is good advice. To stay away.  
  
  
**_He might get himself hurt! That would make wet dreams totes awks. Pretty sure we're not into necrophilia.  
  
  
_**Please shut up.  
  
  
** Maybe he could see how it went?? But even then, Peter had already gotten himself hurt a few times just hanging around him. Kid was persistent, he'd give him that. "I just don't want you to get hurt. If you end up dead, you won't come back from it."  
  
By this point, Peter knew he couldn't exactly avoid the conversation topic, but he had so wished he could. "Look, Wade, I get that, I really do. Because when you get hurt I get deathly scared, and when I can no longer feel your pulse and have to haul a dead body somewhere it really doesn't make me feel like you're coming back. I know you have a healing factor, and I know you can live through basically anything, but it doesn't help the fact that maybe, _just maybe_ , I'm going to see the one time that you don't."  
  
This time, Wade's silence was all him, and he broke it after about thirty seconds with a soft, "Okay, Petey. I'll try to be more careful, but no promises."  
  
  
**Yeah, that's a good one. No use giving the kid false promises.**  
  
  
_Leave him hanging a little bit, set him on edge!_  
  
  
**Even if it wasn't the intended purpose.**  
  
  
  
"Okay. Well that's something sorted, I'm probably going to head off. Leave you be in your own appartment for a bit, yeah? You're probably getting sick of me by this point. I nearly killed you after all."  
  
Laughing in such a way that it made Wade's heart clench, Peter just smiled at him. "I'm always sick of you, Wade."  
  
  
The grin that he shot back at him was one of a small child finding out they're going to Disneyland. 

 

 

The evening was fairly uneventful as Spiderman, and so Peter had decided to take up doing something he loved once more. Photography.   
  
I mean, he knew taking pictures of people without permission was creepy and totally weird but he wasn't really doing it for anything other than the aesthetic. In fact, he had actually gone up to a few people and asked for pictures of them, be it because their hair colour was cool or they had neato body mods. Either way, he found himself drawn to absolutely everything and the night soon fell upon the city. The lights and the dark, navy skies were always something he loved, but he couldn't help but realise that he hadn't actually gotten any pictures of Deadpool. Wade. The one person that was alive and he cared a lot for.   
  
Instead of go straight for it, he stretched this over a few weeks. He knew that Wade hadn't really gotten a patrol schedule, or any work schedule, so it was whenever he could find him. It was probably a little weird, but he had gotten some real nice, artistic shots, actually. On the day he was going to actually tell Wade, the man himself came through his window via the fire escape and a frown on his face. "Petey baby, can you stop following me? I wouldn't mind it otherwise, but I'm a little camera shy for cute guys and you've been snapping pictures for much too long. So cough 'em up, I would very much like them all in cinders."   
  
It was unfortunate that Peter was stubborn, and held his camera tightly to his chest, shaking his head firmly.   
  
"Peter Benjamin Parker, give me the camera."  
  
The voice Wade had used was hard and unforgiving, striking fear into him and rushing straight down his spine, but he refused, again. He also wanted to know how he found out his full name, but then again, he was known for being the best mercenary, so he shouldn't exactly be as surprised as he was.  
  
Silence fell, and Wade looked at the floor before removing his mask and pushing him against the wall with one hand, the other balled at his side. He was going to ask but it would ruin the air of surprise and that was totally lame. If worst came to worst he could just get shoved away and he would leave it at that. So, he went in for the kill. By kill, I mean he kissed the poor, shocked boy clutching his camera.  
  
Peter's response time was remarkably fast considering he was still trying to process what was going on as it happened, and once he finally got into the swing of it he felt a tug on his camera.   
  
  
A distraction. A ruse.   
  
  
Gently pushing him away with one hand, he clutched his only camera once more with hard features. "I know what you were doing there, and it won't work. You're forgetting that I have setules that help me climb walls, you're not going to take this anytime soon, I can assure you. I would, however, like to kiss that chewed bubblegum face of yours more, Wade."  
  
With a pout, Wade crossed his arms over his chest, turning his head away. "I feel personally attacked right here and right now." He wasn't being completely serious, because the slightest hint of a smile started crawling up his face. "Why were you sneaking around taking pictures of me anyway? You don't have to do it for one reason or the other... Are you being paid for it? Is it free publicity for Deadpool, the super amazing, ultra beautiful merc with the mouth??"  
  
"Unfortunately, no. I just didn't have any photos of you, and online the only ones up there are super gory and or not very flattering." Wade just snorted in a short laugh. "I don't really usually look flattering, Pete. This butterface is exclusively unflattering if anything."  
  
Turning on his camera, Peter hovered his finger over the "capture" button, toying with it for a moment. "But Daddy~ You always look super duper and you make my heart go doki doki."   
  
As expected, Wade started to laugh, wholehearted and pure, a light blush covering his cheeks. Quickly Peter snapped it before the moment ended, and Wade was still laughing by the time the picture was on his SD card. Peter grinned at him and gave a small laugh himself, finding it only slightly contagious. "I saw you turn the camera on, but damn I couldn't help myself. How'd it turn out?"  
  
With a very pink face and a large smile, he turned the camera towards him to reveal the picture. Unadulterated joy splayed over the scarred face of Wade Winston Wilson and the faintest of blushes over his cheeks. Peter just couldn't help stating, just for the purpose of doing so. "It turned out perfect."


	6. Fucking Webs, Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK MY LAPTOP IS NO LONGER DEAD but updates will still probably be out of the blue idk. (You guys are all lovely <333)
> 
> Also keep in mind the dates in the fic will more than likely not match the ones in the real world bc I'm hella late for updating this. (Also probably shorter again but riP SORRY this is hella filler)

Fighting was never really too hard for Peter, I mean, it could be fun sometimes, occasionally blowing off a little steam, y'know? But today that was not the case.  
  
At nearly the beginning of the fight his webshooters stopped working, and he made a fair assumption it was because he forgot to refill the web-fluid, but he had run out of it and had thought he'd be fine as it did last quite a long time, even with such a small amount of fluid. But apparently he had lost track of the refilling schedule he had(once a month) and had managed to fuck himself over. He would blame his Parker luck, but alas, this was really all his fault, luck had nothing to do with it. He could however blame Wade for making his current time so hectic over the last few months that his brain was a tiny bit frazzled. It could possibly be just the fact that he hadn't had this much affection in a very, very long time.  
  
He hadn't fought with just his fists in much too long, though, and so he decided it was a good time to pull punches. He didn't want to slaughter people here, after all.   
  
So that's where he was now. Trying his best not to hurt people too bad, and not let them get off easy. Sort of doing his best to stay within that gray area without slipping out through the lines. He would've said bleeding, but he wasn't currently injured. He also had a lot to do, really. He had to sew up the holes on his suit, possibly help Deadpool and his suit AND now make new web fluid. This also wasn't too easy as he had a decent supply previously, but it wasn't the easiest thing to make. It had been a while since he'd made any, actually, and finding the supplies to make it would be horrendously hard. They weren't really things you could just find in a corner store.   
  
Maybe he could ask a favour of Bruce or Tony to borrow some supplies? That would probably be his best option of ever getting anywhere.   
  
Hopping quickly onto the wall, climbing up it slightly further and jumping in a twirl, he managed to thwack a few people on his way down, missing the thwip noises of his webs. The sound of a fist making contact with solid muscle wasn't as appealing as the soft _thwip_ of a web. But punching people did allow him to relieve some steam, his pent up rage simmering down.  
  
With a few small huffs, he let himself stand silently in the alleyway, just taking a moment to collect himself. It was then that he crawled up the wall and made his way to the Avengers tower, hoping, _praying_ that he would be allowed to use the labs and supplies there. He decided not to change, and keep his backpack on tightly to avoid being yanked off or anything and instead of going through windows, took the elevator. JARVIS greeted him politely, and Peter did in return, asking kindly to the AI where Tony was.   
  
Apparently he was already in the lab, so it would save him part of a journey. The AI let Tony know he was coming, and he found himself weaving out of the way of an oncoming door. Thank god for spidey sense or he would be a pancake at the force that shit was opened holy fuck. With a small wave, Peter found himself face to face with Mister Stark himself. Of course he was always a little intimidated by any of the Avengers, but he could never truly feel comfortable around him. They all considered him a kid. Still.   
  
"What do you want?" Tony questioned with a sigh, as though he had been up for far too long to deal with Peter's antics right now.   
  
"I need to use your lab." His voice sounded more confident than he felt, but then his aunt May appeared in his mind, scolding him for forgetting his manners. "Please. But I need to make some web fluid and I would rather not have to steal supplies to make it."  
  
With a roll of his eyes, Tony stepped aside and let the wall-crawler in. "Just... don't break anything, kid. I'd prefer to be spending my money on useful things like-" Peter interrupted with "Alcohol and machinery? No worries, old man, nothing will be broken. I promise." Tony appeared stunned at his word usage and pointed an accusing finger at him, a gasp escaping his lips. "Old man? I'll have you know I'm not that old, and I'm aging gracefully." With a small giggle Peter replied; "If you say so, old man."  
  
A huff and grumbling was the last thing he heard, and as he set up shop, he heard Tony on his way back. "If you keep this up I'll kick you out of the lab."  
  
"Did you really come back here to tell me that? I was done!"  
  
Tony just gestured with one hand to give him the "I've got my eye on you" gesture before closing the door finally. Hopefully indefinitely.   
  
No distractions left Peter with a free pass to make his web fluid, and of course he had the formula memorised, but he had wanted to try testing a few new different types of webbing for a while now. So, as he started, he put his goggles on(over top of his suit) and a set of blue latex gloves before setting to work. Whilst making the standard web fluid, before he was going to start fiddling with it instead of trying new things, blowing up the lab and getting kicked out without what he actually needed, he got a text.   
  
Keeping one hand on the flask, holding it over the bunsen burner(which was his first wrong move) he looked over his phone. It was Wade, of course, who else would text him? He was asking if he wanted food when he got back from whatever he was doing, and so he replied dexterously with his left hand. Glancing back over to the web fluid however, was a problem. It did expand upon heating, this he knew, but he had accidentally over-heated it and it was going a little overboard. It was the kind of fluid not to feel like lava, so if it did slide over his gloved fingers he wouldn't have any issues with burnt hands, but problem was, web fluid was tricky enough to work with, let alone when it's in stuck a thick, gloopy state. Over-heating the fluid caused it to become more tacky, and under-heating it caused it to be brittle. But for science's sake, Peter decided to test this fluid. He'd tested fluids when he was starting out developing this himself, but just in case.  
  
Taking a small sample size, he loaded it straight into one of the vials in his web-shooters. Praying it wouldn't explode or cause gunk to form over the end of the shooter, he decided to use the edge of the two tables he was stood between in the lab. Shooting the web, he stuck it to the other table to form a tightrope of sorts. Usually his webbing was strong enough to hold several people, three probably being the max, and maybe this would be more durable? Leaning down, he pinged the webbing, watching it loop in tiny circles on the spot. It didn't break, but it also looked a little strained.  
  
His next mistake was once again, simply a slip of the mind. Hurrying off to look for some varying weights(He knew Tony had them, he'd seen them before) he left the web fluid by itself. Although it did not feel hot to the touch, the fluid still absorbed heat. To which it kept expanding. He only realised the flask was going to explode because of his spidey sense, to which he hid inside the little closet he was looking in. Once he was sure the shattered glass had fallen, run its course, he came out hurrying back to his work station.   
  
Of course he didn't realise it had smothered his phone until it started ringing.  
  
Sticking a gloved finger through the goo, he clicked answer and put the phone on speaker, hoping it would stay working, or at least long enough to ask for help with cleanup duty. The name was blurred to hell and back, but just in case, he asked softly. "Who is it?"  
  
"Tony, hi. I heard something smash in my lab, do I need to send someone in, or can I trust you'll get it done yourself?" The voice was hard, stern, and definitely Tony. "Also you sound like you have your head in a fishbowl, have you dropped your phone in water or something?"   
  
"Nope! I'm good, my phone is good, everything is good, thanks bye!" Peter quickly hung up and dialed Wade. He had to ring twice, not because he'd input the incorrect number, but probably because Wade was busy. Eventually, on the last ring, he picked up, the sound of a gunshot the first thing he heard. Then the sweetest " _Baby boy_!" He'd probably ever heard. Maybe he was laying it on thick because he knew Peter could hear what was going on. " _How's it going? Miss me already? Now that is the gosh darndest-"_ There was a slice in the air and the contact of blade and flesh. It made him feel a little queasy, "- _cutest thing that's ever happened. No, but really, you alright?"_  
  
As though the fight itself obeyed his every whim, the line was silent, awaiting a response. That might just be because everyone else was dead, but regardless. "It's going okay, I don't really miss you because I saw you recently and I'm alright I just need a hand." In the bout of silence, Peter's face flushed just as Deadpool was about to utter another word. " _Not_  that kind of hand, you filthy filtheroo. Just get over here, I'm in Starks labs."  
  
" _Petey baby, you sound like you're underwater, you want me to bring anything specifically?_ " The question was actually much appreciated, but Peter just smiled softly and swirled his finger around in the finally resting goop on the desk. "Nah, just get over here and be willing to help and I'm more than glad."  
  
Saying their goodbyes, Peter continued fiddling with the gunk on the end of the blue latex glove. He could probably make something to dissolve it, or at least make it easier to remove. Currently it felt akin to the thickness of peanut butter but possibly more malleable, the slightly murky viscous liquid coating his fingers and easily keeping his attention. Maybe he didn't want to clean up. Maybe he didn't want to remake his web-fluid. Or maybe he was just having quite graphic images of Wade on such a table letting thick substances-- No no, Peter. No. This was not the time nor place for that, and he couldn't dare. Him and Wade had just been getting to the good stuff, he didn't want to fuck himself over, even though deep down he knew Wade would be absolutely fine with it.   
  
Really he should be focussing on the fact that he now needed a new phone. Web fluid or not, he needed one, as if he left it on it would be dead for obvious reasons, and if he did get rid of it, his phone would either dissolve with the fluid or have a wet substance on it nonetheless. Sigh. Maybe he could ask a few favors to get a new one. He decided that getting rid of the web fluid was top priority, and so he set to making a mix of chemicals to dissolve it.  
  


By the time Wade had gotten to the tower and made his way up, Peter had cleaned up the web fluid mostly, filling a large tub with the remains he scooped up(He was only dissolving little bits). With it still just as sticky and a short time to test the line of web that he had, he found it wasn't stronger at all, in fact, it bent under real weight, and he decided against using it properly.   
  
"Sweet pea," Wade started in an affectionate tone, and Peter turned to face him. By this point he'd put a lab coat over himself to keep as much as he could off the suit while he was cleaning. "why exactly are you kitted out _and_ wearing lab stuff? Way to make Spiderman look like a nerd." As he spotted the box, he went to touch the contents, but Peter swatted his hand away before he could touch it.   
  
Spotting the phone, Wade again, went to touch it, but Peter just sighed this time. "It's not functional, Wade. It got a test fluid all over it and there was only one way to clean it off. Probably going to have to pull some strings before I can get another one, so sorry if I don't text back."   
  
It took a moment, but Wade just kept staring at him in disbelief before bursting into laughter, so loud and obnoxious that he bent over to lean both hands on his knees, one going to his stomach after a few seconds. To say he was lost would be a drastic understatement. He stood there for what felt like hours before Deadpool finally stood back up, still calming himself down. "For a genius you really are dumb sometimes."  
  
"Excuse me?"   
  
Wiping a mock tear over his mask, he just gave a disbelieving snort. "Have you forgotten what arrangement we're in?"   
  
Oh.  
  
Right.  
  
Peter had indeed forgotten he had a Sugar Daddy, and that Sugar Daddy was Wade Winston Wilson. He honestly just thought it was a straight up relationship by this point, he couldn't really bring himself to ask for anything when he was already draining Wade for his living quarters.   
  
By the pause and frozen seeming Spiderman, Wade assumed so and burst out laughing again. With burning cheeks, he folded his arms. "Stop laughing, I have other things to prioritise, and I would prefer not asking you for things. You're already doing so much for me and I barely do anything for you." It took a moment, but Wade calmed himself down and leaned his chin on top of Peter's head, wrapping both muscular arms around him, hands laid one over the other on his stomach while Peter unfolded his arms to stop being a big baby. "You don't need to do anything particularly. You're around me, you haven't complained so far or said that I've overstepped boundaries, which I would prefer if you would tell me about if I did." Peter just shook his head and leaned back into Wade's chest, and how warm he always seemed.   
  
"You haven't even gotten near overstepping boundaries." Peter responded quickly, and freed his arms so he could continue working while Wade just clung onto him. "So - hypothetically speaking - what would be considered too far, and what would be just before that?"  
  
Although Deadpool could not see his face, it still flared in colour, and Peter was thankful for the mask. "That-- I'll discuss it with you later!" He started quickly hurrying to clean the area to get out of there, but Deadpool was not helping at all. In fact he was slightly hindering how much Peter could do. But once the area was clean, he still had to make the new web fluid, and so, here he was, trying to narrowly avoid every question Wade through his way just so JARVIS or the Avengers didn't hear anything that was going on. He'd already revealed a tiny bit too much for comfort. While waiting for the fluid to heat, Wade started rambling on about all sorts of different kinds of kinks, and the like, and honestly, Peter would much prefer to be the failed batch of web fluid right now. In a puddle, in a little box, hidden away from the world and unable to feel embarrassment or anything.   
  
"Do you think Stark would get pissed off if we made out in his lab?" Wade queried, and JARVIS replied instead of Peter. "I may ask Mister Stark if you would like, my dope-ass fresh prince?" Wade shook his head no, and gave a quiet "Nah, I'm good," and Peter gave a giggle at the name he'd asked JARVIS to call him.  
  
With his web fluid done, he gently pried Wade off of him and put it in a glass bottle of sorts, putting it in his backpack and hopping it in place on his back after removing the lab coat. Peeling the latex gloves off, throwing them away and replacing the goggles and coat back where they belonged, he ushered Wade out and took him by the hand as they left. He saw Wade eyeing the window as though he was going to do some sick web slinging with Wade, but no, he would not do that. He had delicate cargo, even if he wasn't talking about Wade in that moment, he would still consider the Canadian delicate cargo.  
  
So, with a squeeze of his hand, Peter took the lift down with Wade and he smiled under his mask at him. Wade just replied with "I'll get you that phone tomorrow morning, okay baby boy?" As he stated that, he pressed a masked kiss to his forehead, and he felt like it was a tiny bit more intimate in a way. They were Deadpool and Spiderman at the moment, not just plain Wade and Peter, and he raised a hand to cover his cheek at the thought. "I mean, you don't have to, I can probably get a simple one, it's fine." By a simple one, he meant the cheapest one he could find and just leech off of Wade's food for a few days.   
  
"I'm going to get you the best phone I possibly can. You seem like an android guy instead of an iPhone guy." While Wade went on about phones, Peter stayed comfortably silent, pitching in when he felt necessary. The way to Peter's place was a little longer, but Wade was determined to walk him home, and so they stopped a few blocks from his house in an alleyway that was dark and out of view. "So I'll see you later, yeah?" Peter asked softly, smile leaking into his voice.   
  
"I'd like that." Wade went to kiss him, but seemed to back out when he realised it would require lifting his mask, and instead went for a hug. Peter reciprocated, but felt a little sad. He'd only kissed Wade once, and he seemed to only do it as a distraction to try and nick his camera. Peter wanted to initiate it to attempt to make Wade more at ease. He loved affection and Wade was very, very sweet when he wanted to be. Peter started to climb the wall, and hopped onto the side of the fire escape, and when Wade turned around he crawled under it, and pulled his mask up quickly, getting prepared.   
  
As Wade walked under the fire escape, he stood upright, grabbed the lower half of Wade's mask and yanked it up and over his nose to press their lips together in a Spiderman kiss. With both hands, he carefully, cautiously cupped Wade's cheeks and kissed him like he meant it. No tongues, though. That would be all over the place and disgusting, especially upside down. Wade seemed content without them, though, and so when they broke apart the first thing Wade saw was the brightest upside down smile he'd ever seen. "I encourage you to kiss me at all possible moments we are in private or out of the suits, please."   
  
Wade gave him a shy smile(of which Peter never thought was possible, I mean, Wade, shy?) and pressed a short, chaste kiss to his lips before once again wishing him a good evening.   
  
Almost instinctively as he neared the roof, he shouted "I love you!" to him before realising his mistake.

 

  
Oh boy, what a conversation that was going to be.


	7. Accidents Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What have u done Peter u numpty. SorT IT OUT

Hold the mother _fucking_ phone.  
  
Wade definitely knew he heard that correctly, but by the time he turned around, Peter was out of sight. 

 _Why the fuck did he say that what the fuckity fuck?_  
  
  
**I think the kid's more out of it than we give him credit for. I mean, first he accepted this whole ordeal, then he stated that we hadn't been pushing too far, I mean c'mon holding hands without gloves is too far, and now stating something like that? He allows us to kiss him for crying out loud. On the _face_! _Without_ a barrier! _Skin on skin contact!_**  
  
  
_It could just be the fact that, I don't know, he_ loves _us??_  
  
  
**Ha, is that a _joke_? Really, who would love _us_? _Nobody_ loves us, not even ourselves. **  
  
  
_A fair point indeed._ **But** _if he did actually love us--_  
  
  
**Then he would be willing to admit it again. I say confront him about it.**

Although Wade had basically sat in for the long run, listening to the conversation, he did have to agree that going to confront him was a good idea. But maybe a shower was in order, he was still bloody and probably stank of death. That seemed like Peter's least favourite smell. So, his boxes kept reminding him about what Peter had said as he made the trek home. He'd be walking these streets again after a long shower and change of clothing, after all.  
  
  
Peter on the other hand was panicking. His breathing had picked up the second he'd gotten into his house and he had checked his phone before realising it was indeed, still dead. He kept trying to click it on and check for messages nonetheless, just in case it had one of those burst life moments where it worked and went back off again, but Peter had never really been that lucky, right?  
  
I mean, sure, he loved Wade, but he could never be absolutely concrete on if those were his real feelings or if he was desperate for someone to love him and for him to push his affections on in return. Plus, did Wade _love_ him? I mean, he idolised Spiderman, that he was certain of, but that didn't mean he cared for Peter. He was still just as boring as ever, and the only thing he really had going for him was Spiderman.   
  
He was nice sometimes, though, maybe Wade would like him for that? But being honest with himself, who cared for that nowadays?  
  
With shaky hands, he went to his kitchen, to get a glass of water or something, try to ease his thoughts, but upon opening the cupboard, his hand slipped and three of the glasses fell on him, the one in his hand getting crushed because he didn't control his strength as his body was already panicking. Okay, four glasses broken, this could be fine, he'd just drink straight from the tap. Like some sort of savage.  
  
His suit now had ripped, glass hands and Peter probably should've taken it off upon reaching his house. Jumping onto the ceiling, he made his way carefully to the living room, leaving a red handprints on the ceiling from where he was still bleeding and after he was away from the kitchen and standing in the middle of his living room, he hopped down, going into his room to change out of it.  
  
Hiding the suit in case anyone came into his house, he decided he could stitch it up later, and once in the bathroom(he was really flying around his tiny apartment of a home, huh?) he picked up a set of tweezers and oh so carefully pulled out the shards of glass. It probably would've been more enjoyable if Wade did it, because although Wade didn't treat him like a china doll all the time, in situations where he was the one that could possibly be causing pain, he would make sure to use the most genteel hands he could muster, almost as if Peter was going to flip on him. The thought made his face rosy, but he didn't really notice it and instead admired the way the tiniest of glass pieces scattered on the surface of his hand glistened in the light. He washed his hands carefully with plain water before making his way back. It was slowly starting to heal, and had already scabbed up but would take about a day or two to disappear completely.   
  
Eyes on the prize, Peter thought, as he gracefully hopped the kitchen counter and crouched right on the edge of the sink, making his way up onto his cupboard doors which creaked with strain under his meek weight, and he turned the tap on and started drinking it straight without a glass. But the thought and everything calmed him down a little, he did still feel he could calm down further if he was out, so he decided he was going to work. He would work for free if he had to, but he needed to be out of the house.  
  
So, upon dressing himself for work, he set out and went to the coffee shop, as it was 24 hour and he didn't have time for stopping. Grabbing a few bandages on his way out, he started wrapping them around his hand, mostly to hide it from sight and stop people asking questions about his above average healing. Of course he couldn't really say that he'd gotten it a while ago because these people saw him in work fairly fucking often. Lying to them would do less good than anything at all. He might as well just admit who he was upright if measly lying wouldn't do him.  
  
On his way, he found the fresh air something that he had definitely needed, and the night was lovely to be out in and he forgot for a moment how much he enjoyed it for a moment.   
  
In his haze of panic, he was missing the small things that calmed him down, like the open air, embracing him in a chilly hug of which was entirely welcome at this moment in time, the slight mix of beverages and cheap, greasy food stores that are still open and sort of make him wish he hadn't turned down Wade's offer for food earlier. The sky, littered with stars like Wade had once described the freckles over his cheeks the first time they had food together in the suits. Honestly, a lot of his good memories at the moment reminded him of people. Usually Wade at the moment, but before he was pretty sure his mind was flooded with the deaths of the people he loved, of which wasn't helpful not healthy at all, but he couldn't help it. Having his mind on the good moments of their lives together made him feel like he was betraying how they passed. In a way. He was just depressed, and he probably was still depressed, but life was just a tiny bit easier, which was nice.  
  
He would probably regret thinking about someone so much, but right now he couldn't help himself. He just really _really_ liked Wade.  
  
And Wade really really liked him. Loved him, adored him and wanted to forever be with him. Peter was just too good for him in his opinion, but even so, he wanted to make sure he was okay, talk through things, as they would be.  
  
But upon reaching Peter's small apartment, he didn't feel right.

**We're probably chickening out.**

_No we aren't! Something just doesn't feel right, aren't you reading along? Jeez._

In actual fact, Wade was tempted to indeed chicken out, BUT he also wanted to check out the scene. If something didn't sit right, then he didn't want to have left something important behind. So, he gave two single knocks. No answer. So he tried once more. Peter always replied to the door if he was in, this much Wade knew from experience. He didn't check who it was, he just flung it open like he didn't care, which was concerning, but he knew how to care for himself... right?  
  
Upon picking the lock and going inside he didn't think so much longer.  
  
There was broken glass in the little kitchen area just to the right of the door, and blood drips along the floor around the glass. Though it was a lot of glass, the cupboard hadn't even been closed, so something had to be wrong.  
  
Stepping cautiously into the home, he pushed the door to behind him, just enough room so it wouldn't bang or make any noise, soundlessly slipping through into the bedroom. Nothing. Bathroom? Still nothing much, but the cupboard under the sink had been yanked open and everything was fallen out of it as if someone was in a hurry. With a groan, he lolled his head backwards, but he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. The ceiling.  
  
It had red handprints - small ones - in Spideys general pattern when climbing walls or walking along ceilings, so that only left Wade to jump straight to conclusions. Peter, who had still been in the suit, had been tailed to his apartment, attacked but Peter was too slippery but managed to cut his hand, something to do with the glass probably, tried to get away via the ceiling, be it for a sneak attack or just to escape, got back down on the floor somewhere between the living room and the bathroom, tried to grab medical supplies but got dragged out as he was doing so and was holed up somewhere and being kept prisoner for information, his identity or whatever other reason. He couldn't even contact him because Peter's fucking phone was out of commission. He might be just fine, but blood and Peter didn't seem good when it was in his living space.  
  
God, was he going to be okay?  
  
Maybe, but he had to work fast. He wasn't in the suit, because Peter seemed to really like when he wasn't in the Deadpool suit, as flattering as it was. But when he wasn't in the suit he was calmer, seemed more comfortable and gave much more contact surprisingly enough. When he was in the suit, he'd admitted feeling uncomfortable because usually it meant somebody was going to die, but he also didn't hold his hand as much, if they were both in the suits or even just one of them. He also acted a little more closed off, and felt the way to get Peter to answer things or convince him, was contact. A light nudge, hand on his shoulder, even something as small as brushing their pinkies together. Apparently that included being able to see his face. Maybe it was a trust thing. He was admittedly a little worried about confronting him. Didn't mean it would outright stop him, but made him more hesitant about stating or asking about it.  
  
Wade had no idea where to even start, and he worried the aglets on the cords of his hoodie, leaving the house and shutting the door securely because he wasn't returning without Peter. Actually, he probably wouldn't be returning unless he was invited in, as it wasn't his home. (He did take note of how well cared for the coat was, though.)  
  
Chewing his bottom lip, he decided to go to the park, clear his mind and just think. He could check the abandoned building he got trapped in, but if the guy was smart(which he seemed at least smart enough not to stay in the same place) he would move from where he was situated. But on his way, he got a text from a new number. It wasn't one he'd even heard in passing, but all he knew is they typed _really, **really**_ fast.

Unknown: Hey, Peter here. I'm really sorry for randomly saying I love you, but it doesn't have to change anything!!  
  
Unknown: I mean  
  
Unknown: I won't lie and say I didn't mean it  
  
Unknown: But if you don't exactly feel the same that's totally fine too  
  
Unknown: And if you want to break this whole thing off   
  
Unknown: I'd totally understand  
  
Unknown: Please respond

A snort left Wade, but he didn't particularly know if he could trust this unknown number. Did Peter really memorise numbers? That's so weird. 

  
Wade: if u give me a second to respond then yh i would snatch it up   
  
Wade: but youre not giving me much of a chance ykno  
  
Wade: ur like speedy gonzales if this really is petey you know how to use ur fingers rly well ;)))  
  
Unknown: Wade, this is not the time for innuendoes, I'm being serious!!!  
  
Wade: but honestly i dont rly care if you said i love you  
  
Wade: that sounded really wrong but i mean i have had a crush on you since day one   
  
Wade: i thought u already knew so i didnt think this wld be much of an issue

  
It took a little moment longer than usual, and the little typing bar had been up for a short while before he finally recieved a response. He'd honestly thought his phone had crashed or something for a moment.

  
Unknown: Look, I know you had a crush on SM, but I didn't know if you liked the actual me. I mean, I'm kind of boring, and regular, while SM is super cool, no flaws without much that could really put him down. I am not that guy. I'm just some 20 year old nerd who really likes science, and games, who likes to photograph things and takes really dumb pictures with double chins and silly faces sometimes. I just want to be someone worth your attention.

Near immediately after reading it he sent a "where are you" text, his theory on what happened blown out the window. If this was actually Peter, he first had to tell him his feelings, have that sappy gay heart to heart that everyone was probably hoping for (Including him. He wanted it) but most importantly, he had to ask what actually happened at his house. He needed to know.  
  
But for the moment, he settled for rushing as fast towards the coffee shop Peter was currently in/working at, hoping, praying that it was actually Peter on the other end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can u tell I'm dragging this out? 
> 
> This is essentially another filler but its also slightly relevant I swear 
> 
> Now to never update in a million years (Just kidding I couldn't leave it THAT long)


End file.
